“What’s lagom?”
My hands fell to his chest, thrilled by his heart’s tempo. It matched mine. “Not too little. Not too much. Just right.”
I didn’t believe in perfect, but I believed in lagom.
It meant right, but not necessarily perfect.
And in a world filled with devious lies, it was a truth I latched onto.
(...) “Why not say perfect?”
I shook my head, appalled by the idea. “Perfection is unattainable. It’s stained by the suffering required to chase it. Perfect is something you think with your head. Lagom is something you feel with your heart.”
Parker S. Huntington, Devious Lies